


Learning the Ropes

by drownedinblissfulconfusion (tundraeternal)



Category: Supernatural
Genre: First Time, Friends to Lovers, M/M, Soulmates
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-03
Updated: 2013-05-23
Packaged: 2017-12-07 09:58:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 6,671
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/747204
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tundraeternal/pseuds/drownedinblissfulconfusion
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Set after 8.17, when Castiel comes home to Dean.  Mainly human, he isn't sure what he's feeling.  (No longer canon-compliant)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [clotpoleofthelord](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=clotpoleofthelord), [plantainleaf](https://archiveofourown.org/users/plantainleaf/gifts).



It’s 11 o’clock at night in a cheap and dingy motel room in Paris, Arkansas. Dean is pacing; too restless to stay in, and too tired to go out. He picks up his phone to call Sammy back at the bunker, see if his nerdy brother’s cooked up anything good since he’s been gone, but by the time he’s scrolled to the number he’s decided he’s not really in the mood to talk research. He sighs and tosses the phone onto the bed. So if he’s not in the mood for books, what’s the opposite of books? Beer. Maybe he’s in the mood for a beer. At the very least maybe it’ll settle his nerves, which are jangling on high alert, completely out of proportion to the simple salt-n-burn he’s just finished up with. He’s pretty sure there’s a bottle or two left of six-pack he bought on his way into town.

Feeling better now that’s he’s got a goal, he moves to the door and pulls it open- only to find a familiar form on the other side, standing, hand up, ready to knock. 

“Cas! Jesus, man, you almost gave me a heart attack!” His heart soars and his nerves are suddenly abuzz with a completely different kind of energy. But he thinks of what happened last time they met, and shuts it all down before his joy has a chance to show on his face.

“Hello, Dean. May I come in?” Dean shrugs and stands back, as Cas brushes past him inside, then pushes the door shut behind.

They stand facing each other for a long moment. Dean can feel Cas’s blue, blue eyes locked on him, as usual, as he runs his own gaze over the shock of unruly black hair, the familiar twisted tie, the tattered trenchcoat.

“Cas.” His voice sounds rough in his own ears, too full of emotion. To have Cas back, here within arm’s reach and looking sane—well, as sane as he ever looks. It seems too good to be true. In Dean’s life, the good stuff usually comes with a catch.

“It’s me, Dean. I’m me.” The words are simple, but his voice is intense. Dean feels like there must be a code in there that he’s meant to break, but damned if he knows what it is.

“I guess it is. No more mind control bullshit?”

“It appears I’m free of that. When the connection broke, it broke for good.” He looks nervous, like he’s not sure Dean’s got any reason to believe him. Ironically, it’s the nervousness that convinces Dean. He’s pretty sure that robot Naomi created wouldn’t be looking so lost. But if Cas is just Cas, where the hell has he been since the crypt, and why?

“So what, you’re back now? For how long? We gonna be hunting buddies like the good old days? You planning to pull some more surprises on me and then freaking disappear again? It’s getting old, Cas. How many more times are you gonna do this?” It kills Dean to push like this, as though he’s goading the angel into heading right back out the door. But dammit, he’s hurting, and he’s never been the clearest of thinkers when he’s feeling betrayed.

“Dean, I’m here now. I want to be here. You told me- you said we were family.” Cas is trying so hard to make eye contact, but Dean not ready meet his eyes. He doesn’t think he could stand the spark that it ignites between them.

“Yeah so what if I did?” Dean tilts his chin up defiantly, jaw set, belying the hurt in his eyes. “I tell you you’re family, and you just wing the hell off someplace? And I don’t hear from you for _weeks_? That ain’t how family’s supposed to work in my book.”

“Dean, please. You said you needed me.” Yeah, he remembers saying those words. Remembers cowering, covered in blood and desperate to break through. Remembers the shock as Cas reached for him, to heal. And the shock as Cas vanished without a word of explanation. Again.

“Maybe I do need you." It hurts to say the words, but he can't bear to deny it. "But how is that gonna get me anything but screwed over? Cause that’s something that’s gotta go both ways, and it looks like you sure as hell don’t need me.” Cas flinches like he’s been hit, and Dean dares to hope that’s progress.

“Of course I- I didn’t- I _couldn’t_ need you, Dean.” He trips over his words, trying to find the right ones. Clenches his fists at his sides. “I couldn’t afford to stay with you, because I needed you to be safe. I had to be sure I wasn’t a threat to you. That Heaven wouldn’t find you, punish you to punish me. Because if I can’t keep you safe, then everything I’ve done, everything I am feeling- the fact that I even _know how_ to feel- it’s all worth nothing!”

His outburst shocks Dean into looking right at him; he’s blazing angry, and sure enough, as soon as their eyes lock Dean feels the shock of it. It’s like a punch to his gut, like his insides curling into a fist, warm and tight, but he can’t look away now. He licks his lips. “I don’t even know what to say to that, man. Does this mean you’re like my guardian angel or something? You gonna hover around trying to keep me out of trouble?” He feels like he’s only grasping the edges of what Cas is trying to tell him, but he’s not sure he even wants to see the whole picture. It’s too big and he thinks it’s going to stir up something in him that he’d just as soon keep tamped down safe.

The look Cas gives Dean is one he’s never seen before. Anger mixed with sadness, confusion, and something else that won’t be so readily identified.

“No. I’m not going to be your guardian angel. Look at me, Dean. I’m not any kind of angel anymore.” He shrugs, palms out, pleading for Dean to understand.

“Are you… did you fall? Are you human now?” Dean can’t tell if this is good or bad.

“I don’t know _what_ I am. I know I haven’t got my power anymore. I’m not how I used to be. I had to take a bus here, Dean. I fell asleep, for fuck’s sake!” Cas runs his hands through his hair, mussing it even more than usual. “But I can still feel my grace. Some of it, anyway. I could feel you.”

“That whole ‘profound bond’ thing?” Dean means it as a joke, but it comes out serious.

Cas smiles, then. “Something like that.”

“So, okay, you got weakened angel powers. Like before the Lucifer-Michael showdown? You were pretty low on mo-jo back then.”

“Yes, and no. During that time I felt weak, like my battery was running out, but I was still myself. Now? I think I’m changing, Dean. I’m losing my abilities, but I’m gaining… insight. Into the human condition. I’ve connected to my vessel more fully than should have been possible. This body is _mine_ now. I have emotions, cravings; they’re so strong. I’ve never felt anything like this before.”

“So, dude, emotions? Cravings? I’m guessing you’re not talking cheeseburgers here.” Dean can feel himself trying on his ‘tough guy’ role at the mention of emotions, but it doesn’t stop him from asking the question. Or from wanting to know the answer.

“Dean, I can’t explain it. Angels don’t have words for this. We are righteous, and we are fierce, and we obey. But, since you, things have happened to me that should never have been possible. I’ve fallen, and I’ve died, and I’ve been brought back, and I have broken the laws of God and yet still, somehow, I keep coming back to you. And now I have these _things_ inside me…” He breaks off, looking desperate.

“Dude, Leviathan? Like the Levianthan were inside you??” Dean’s heading for panic.

“No! Of course not, not literally. No, I mean, these… sensations,” he gestures frantically at his own body. “Emotions causing actual physical responses. When I was on the bus on my way here, I could hardly sit still. I felt like electricity was running in my veins. My heartbeat kept becoming erratic. I thought I was going to die! But I realized, this is how you feel all the time!”

“Well, not _all_ the time…” though it’s definitely a description of what Dean was feeling all evening.

“And now!” Cas is too worked up by what he’s saying to be distracted by Dean’s muttered aside, “When you opened the door, I saw you, and it felt like something inside of me was being twisted and clawed! But I like it, Dean! How can something feel good and painful at the same time?!” Cas slowly advances, and Dean takes a step back. “Dean, I came back because I couldn’t stand it anymore. Every time I thought of you it hurt. Is that what it’s like to miss someone? I feel ridiculous not knowing what’s happening in my own body. I don’t even know how to _have_ a body. You need to tell me. What is this? What does it mean?” Dean’s backed into the table now, and Cas is way inside his personal space. He reaches for Cas’s shoulders just to hold him at bay.

“Okay, Tiger, slow down. Slow down.” He’s talking as much to his own pulse as he is to Castiel. “Everything you’ve talked about, that’s all totally normal. You’re not gonna have a heart attack, I promise. I’m sure everything just feels extra intense because you’re not used to it. Like, when you saw me, it’s the same as when i see you. It’s just being glad to see you. Glad that you’re okay, that you’re alive. It’s ‘cause we’re friends. ‘Cause we care about each other.” Cas looks into his eyes and he feels a twinge of guilt. It’s ridiculous. He’s not lying. They are friends. Friends care about each other.

“Friends,” Cas echoes.

“Yeah.”

“Dean,” Cas’s voice goes rough. Rougher than usual, if that were even possible, “I want to hold you.”

“You want to- ah, okay. Alright.” He feels a flush spreading up his face, but Cas looks so earnest and Dean can’t deny that something in him thinks it’s a surprisingly good idea. His hands are still on Cas’s shoulders, and it’s easy to slide his arms around them and pull him in close. For a second it’s just like when he found Cas in Purgatory, but this time there’s no sense of wrong. There’s no danger and nothing to fight. That was elation and triumph, and this is just peace. And this time Cas is right here with him, nothing held in reserve. Suddenly Cas’s arms are around his back, holding him, holding him up. This is what he’s been missing. It feels so right that it’s like a dam has burst in him and all he can do is hang on, hands clenched into the beautiful, dirty trenchcoat. He’s afraid there might even be a tear sliding down his face, and he is so glad Sammy’s not here, because this is _not_ the way dudes do things.

But Cas, he’s not really a dude. Never has been, despite being in a guy’s body. And as much as Dean tries to say he is, he isn’t like a brother. So if he’s not a human, and he’s not an angel, that makes him something completely new. God knows this will probably cause them more crazy-ass problems further down the line, but for now Cas is back, here, wrapped in his arms, and it’s good. So good. If it were a chick flick, Dean would tell Cas that he’s not the only one trying to define new emotions.


	2. Chapter 2

"This isn't enough, Dean," Cas mumbles into Dean's collar, forehead pressed against the curve of his neck. 

Dean's hand has snaked up to hold Cas's head, somehow, without his even noticing it. He tangles it there, twisting his fingers into the dark hair. 

"What do you mean? Not enough what?"

"To feel connected like this to you, physically, it feels good. But it's not enough!" Cas's arms tighten around Dean, one hand splayed flat against his back, the other fisted in his shirt. "We are family, Dean. And this is love that I feel for you. I know that. But it's not the same as the love that I felt for my brothers in heaven. It's not the same as the love that you feel for Sam. Is it?"

Part of Dean wants to leap backwards and deny it, but it's a small and dwindling part. He's been pushing this feeling down for so long, for years, and all that comes of it is that he keeps losing Cas. Maybe it's time to switch tracks. The truth will set you free, and all that bullshit. He pulls back slightly, shifts his hand down to cup the back of Cas's neck, so that he has room to look him in the eyes. 

"No. No, it's not the same. You're right. You and me? It's different. It's different from everything else."

"Dean when I look at you, when I touch you, it's like a hunger I can't sate. I want to be so close you to. I wish I could somehow _meld_ with you, just take you into myself and be within you and become one person." Cas raises his hands from Dean's waist to press his fingers to Dean's cheeks. "Is this normal? What does this mean? How can I make it calm down? I thought seeing you would help, but I only wanted to touch you. And now touching you, it's still _not enough_. What do I do?" His blue eyes look so lost and broken and afraid, and Dean's heart melts. 

He lets out a shaky laugh, and Cas drops his hands, surprised. "Jeez, you really don't pull your punches, man. You know you're talking about sex, right? Those are the words people use. Melding, and- and 'becoming one'. Being inside someone else. That's what sex is for." He almost wants to be wrong. His life is already complicated enough without--shit, without wanting to get into bed with an ex-angel who's riding around in a man's body. But he thinks of Cas in his arms, and that's it. That's maybe the best thing he's ever felt, and he can't help it if he wants to keep that feeling.

"Sex." Cas pulls back. Looks as though he's tasting the flavor of the word in his mouth. The confusion in his face slowly fades into hope. Wonder. "Dean. You're right. I want for us to have sex." 

He fixes Dean with that stare, the one he's given a million times before, and it is exactly the same looking into his eyes as it has been every other time: hypnotically blue and heart-stoppingly powerful. And suddenly Dean sees it, like he's had a vision, that this is where they've been heading. Four years of trial and error, of learning, and mistrusting, and denying, and slipping and falling, yet somehow always picking each other back up. And this is it, this is what's been growing between them. The destiny they've made for themselves. And Dean is suddenly terrified. He doesn't even know where to start. Is this gonna be weird? What if it's weird? Cas is the best friend he's ever had, and yes, really, they're more than friends. They're family. But, no, they're not exactly family. And more than friends, that's a phrase that means sex, and it sounds so simple when Dean thinks of it like that, but things with Cas are never simple, and now Dean's brain is running in circles like a hamster in a wheel. 

"Cas, listen. Sit down for a second." Pushes him gently into a chair and pulls another one up for himself, so that they're sitting face to face, knees bumping knees. There's no point in being coy now, so Dean leans forward and takes Cas's hands in his own, brushing fingers over his knuckles, looking for words to say. Why are things always so difficult?

"Dean, I don't understand. I thought- You knew what I meant, I thought you must feel the same." That typical little tilt of his head, slight narrowing of his eyes. "Don't you want to have sex with me?"

The question sends an unexpected arrow of lust straight into Dean's belly, and he feels himself going hard. So, okay, maybe it'll be easier than it seems. He's Dean Winchester; he's good at sex. God knows he's had plenty of practice, and really, how different could it be with a dude? They've got all the same parts as each other--it's not like when he was a teenager and trying to unravel the mystery of how to please a woman. Men are easy; it's all right there. He's been learning for years how his own cock likes to be touched, after all, so maybe he's got a thing or two he can show Cas... at a sudden mental picture of his angel naked beneath him and learning new sensations, he feels himself blushing and has to catch his breath. 

"Yeah. Yeah I really think I do." If he can only figure out how to turn off his brain and let his body, which obviously got on board this train a lot earlier than he realized, take the lead. 

It's easier said than done. He's never wanted anything so badly, and he's never been so scared of screwing it up. He looks down at their hands, gripped together between them. Looks up at Cas's face: lust-darkened pupils staring right through him, and god, that is so unexpectedly hot. How did he never notice before? He raises Cas's hands to his lips and kisses each fingertip. Cas's breath hitches at every contact. Alright, Winchester. One step at a time. He slowly sucks one long finger into his mouth, runs his tongue along the pad, and Cas honest to god whimpers. Son of a bitch, Cas is making sex noises. Dean groans involuntarily. Okay, he's got this situation under control. This is gonna be alright. Dean is gonna make this good.


	3. Chapter 3

He places a kiss to Cas's palm and shuts his eyes as Cas sighs and lets his fingers press against Dean's cheekbone. He remembers, with a huff of laughter, the look of terror on Cas's face as Dean had pushed him at that little blonde hooker, back in wherever-the-hell-that-was, lifetimes ago. His eyes are wide this time too, and his mouth a little slack. It looks more like amazement than fear, but Dean figures he should go slow anyway. Cas is probably reeling; all the sensations of his first time, compounded by the staggering effect of his new near-humanity? That's a killer combo. 

"Cas, you doing okay? Is this good?"

Cas caresses Dean's face, running fingers back into his hair. They've both slid forward to the edges of their chairs, their foreheads touching, Cas's legs bracketed by Dean's. He nods faintly, closes his eyes. "Dean, I want-" he breaks off, swallows, gulps for air.

"Yeah? Anything you want, you just name it," Dean breathes into Cas's mouth. The way Cas's knees are rubbing against the insides of his thighs is driving him nuts. 

"Everything," Cas gasps, his blue eyes opening wide, "I want everything." 

Before Dean has a clue what's hit him, Cas is kneeling, pressed hard against him, hands fisted in his hair, kissing him hard enough to bruise.

"Fuck, _Cas_!" Dean moans as teeth catch his lower lip. Cas's only response is a low growl as he mouths his way along Dean's jaw, chapped lips on rough stubble, to scrape his teeth against the soft skin below Dean's ear. Dean scrabbles with his hands on Cas's sides, craving skin. He pushes the trenchcoat off, throwing it aside. 

"Jeez, man, why do you have to wear so many layers?" He turns the suit jacket inside out in his hurry to get rid of it.

Cas laughs and nips at Dean's collarbone. "Ironic, Dean." He tugs at the lapels of Dean's jacket and the collar of his flannel, before pulling them off together in one quick motion. He's already sliding his hands up under Dean's t-shirt as Dean swears under his breath and attacks the buttons on Cas's crisp, white shirt. 

Buttons take much too long to undo, Dean thinks. "Screw this, man." He grabs with both hands and tugs, and loves the thrill he feels as the threads tear beneath his hands. From the moan Cas lets out, it's a good bet he loved it too. This is NOT how Dean was expecting things to go, but no way will anyone hear him complain. 

Cas frees his hands from the sleeves and balls the ruined shirt up, throwing it over his shoulder. "Dean, _please_. Touch me. I need to feel you."

Dean, finishing stripping off his t-shirt, is more than willing to oblige. His hands on Cas's waist, he stands up, pulling the smaller man with him. Cas is still wearing that ridiculous backwards tie. Dean grabs it to bring him close, kisses him until they're both dizzy with it, then loosens the knot and tosses the tie aside. Flush against each other this way, Dean can feel Cas hard through his trousers, pressing against Dean's own erection. He moans as their hips shift, cocks rubbing together. "Cas, I hope this is all okay for you, 'cause it needs to get a lot more naked in here, real fast."

Cas is too busy kissing him to reply, but the hands deftly undoing the buttons of his jeans are more than enough answer. Dean gets a handful of Cas's ass and squeezes, drawing a rough groan from him. Cas responds by pushing both hands beneath the waistband of Dean's boxer-briefs, and sliding them down, along with his jeans, just enough to free his cock, now thick and heavy and starting to glisten wet at the tip. Before he has a chance to beg--and he is so ready to beg--Cas's hot hand is around his shaft, squeezing just a little as he runs two fingers up the sensitive underside. 

Dean feels his knees go weak and braces himself with both hands on Cas's shoulders. But it's no sooner begun than Cas has dropped his hand, kissed Dean hard, and pulled away. 

"Wha-?"

"Bed. Now." Cas is already undoing his own belt. Dean pushes his jeans off so fast that he nearly trips on them, but manages to get across the room to the bed. He leans back against the headboard and watches Cas finish undressing. His blue eyes are narrowed, smoldering dark, and he never takes them off of Dean as he gets his belt unbuckled, undoes the catch of his trousers, and slides them off, stepping out of them as they fall. The dark blue briefs follow shortly.

Dean just stares. Cas is beautiful. Not chick-beautiful--he’s not exactly feminine--but like a marble statue come to life. He’s like, oh hell, like an angel; the kind in Renaissance paintings, not the dicks in the three piece suits. Smooth, unmarred skin (one of the benefits of super healing powers, apparently) covers defined muscles. He's toned; not bulky, but bigger than Dean would have thought from the way he wears his clothes like he's lost in them. Cas walks purposefully towards him and Dean feels his breath catch. 

“Cas, not to break the mood or anything--I mean I _really_ don’t want to break this mood; this is an awesome mood--but are you sure this is okay for you? We’re not moving too fast? Ten minutes ago you were afraid you were gonna have a heart attack, just from an adrenaline rush. Do you even know how this works?”

Cas is looming over Dean now. He kneels on the bed, straddling Dean’s legs, and places his hands on either side of Dean’s hips. He leans in until his mouth is against Dean's ear, breath hot against the skin. “Dean. I have been on this planet, observing animal behavior, since the earth was a swamp, and your distant ancestors had gills. I have seen every possible permutation of human sexuality over the millennia of your evolution. I am acquainted with acts you have never dreamed of. So, yes, I’m pretty sure I ‘know how this works.’”

Dean swallows, hard. He’s not sure if that was hot or scary. “Okay, man. Good. Yeah. Sounds like you got this.” So much for showing Cas a thing or two about sex. It occurs to Dean that he might even be a little out of his league here. 

Cas must have felt him tensing, because he kisses the corner of Dean’s mouth, then sits back on his heels and takes his hands, twining their fingers. “I apologize. You’re right to ask. I am in a unique situation. I have so much knowledge, but it’s purely theoretical, technical. I have catalogued actions without comprehending their meanings. I remember you called me a baby in a trenchcoat; that analogy is even more apt now. I am trying to learn things that humans normally begin assimilating at birth." He pauses, catches his lip between his teeth. "It’s a steep learning curve, and I’m not sure how well I’m handling it. But, I trust you,” he looks up from their joined hands, into Dean’s face, his expression wide open and earnest. “What we’re doing feels right; feels good. This is what I want. And I know that, even if I am overwhelmed, you won’t let harm come to me. I understand that a certain loss of control is considered necessary for a pleasurable sexual experience. You are the only one with whom I can allow myself to let go.”

Dean thinks that if this were some kind of dime store romance novel, this would be the part where he tells Cas that he’s honored to be able to do this for him, that he loves him, and that he’s going to make him feel things he’s never imagined. Which, yeah, is all true. But Dean’s never been a romance novel kind of guy, and words are overrated when there’s action to be taken. So all he says is, “Come here,” as he pulls Cas down for another kiss.


	4. Chapter 4

The mood shifted somehow during Cas’s little speech. Cas no longer feels hot and reckless in Dean’s arms. Instead he’s kissing Dean so tenderly, so intently, that it’s making Dean feel like a blushing virgin bride. The urgency is fading; they’ve got all night for this. Dean runs his hands along Cas’s body, smooth skin singing beneath his fingertips. He slides his thumbs gently over Cas’s dark nipples and feels his body shiver in response. Cas sits astride Dean, back bowed, head back and mouth open. He trembles with each touch, lost in the sensations. 

“God you’re incredible,” Dean can’t stop himself from saying as he leans forward, follows the trail of his fingers with his tongue and feels his own hips jerk with each new sound torn from Cas’s throat. 

“Dean. Dean.” Cas repeats his name like a litany. It’s like he doesn’t know what to do with his body, too intent on reacting to be able to act. His hands flutter across Dean’s skin, before reaching the bed and twisting white-knuckled into the sheets. “Dean, please. More. Please.”

With a groan, Dean grabs Cas by the shoulders and pushes him down to the other side of the bed, swiftly throwing his own knee over Cas’s hips to reverse their positions. Grinning, he grabs hold of Cas’s flailing hands, then leans down until the two of them are pressed chest to chest, to kiss the startled expression from his face. He’s regained his confidence now; theoretical understanding is all well and good, but nobody beats Dean Winchester for hands-on experience in exactly how to provide pleasure. 

A spot of blue at the edge of the bed catches Dean’s eye; reaching over, he snags the tie he’d tossed across the room earlier, and wraps the smooth silk around his fingers. He touches the fabric to Cas’s collarbone, stroking feather-light down to the hollow of his throat and along his chest before skimming over his hip bones. Cas’s breathing is shallow, practically panting, and his fingers clench at Dean’s thighs, pressing prints as he kneads into the muscle. 

“I didn’t--Oh!--I didn’t realize it would be like this,” he gulps. 

“Baby, it’s gonna be much better than this before I’m done with you.” As a promise of what’s to come he briefly grinds his hips down, rubbing his erection against Cas’s, and Cas shouts out loud and bucks upwards. It’s almost too much for Dean, who hadn’t counted on driving himself as crazy as he was driving Cas, but the naked angel beneath him seems to light sparks in him like he’s never felt before. He rolls his hips once more to feel the sharp pleasure of his cock against Cas’s skin, and then stills. He’s determined to make this last as long as possible. They’re not teenagers groping in a back seat, for god’s sake.  
His determination lasts until Cas reaches arms around his waist and grabs his ass in both hands, squeezing and pulling and trying to get the friction going once more. Dean gives in, bending forward until both their cocks are caught between the damp heat of their stomachs, and he slides slowly up and back, sweat-slick skin creating hot tightness between them.  
Before they can get too close to the edge, though, he backs off, even as Cas tries to pull him closer. “Hey, cool it, Handsy. We can do better than that.” Cas responds by digging his short fingernails into Dean’s skin until Dean reaches back and wraps his fingers around Cas’s wrists. He raises Cas’s arms above his head, places a chaste kiss to his cheek, and then, with the tie that’s still wrapped loosely around his fingers, he makes a quick knot to secure Cas’s wrists to the headboard. 

“That isn’t fair. I want to touch you,” growls Cas. 

“Hey, who’s got the years of experience here, you or me?”

Cas narrows his eyes, but stays silent. 

“Yeah, you’re cute when you pout. I promise I’ll make it worth it. Don’t think about anything, just let me do this for you.” He leans down for another kiss--not so chaste this time, as Cas seems determined to use his tongue as creatively as possible to make up for having his hands tied. Before long they’re both panting and Dean can’t help that he’s rutting against Cas’s hip. 

“Dean, I need you.” His voice is harsh and broken. “Now. Please.” 

Dean mouths along the stubble of Cas’s jaw, filthy wet kisses, and licks the folds of Cas’s ear. “You want me inside you?” Dean can’t believe how wrecked his own voice sounds.

“Ungh, Dean. Yes!” Cas arches up and shifts his hips until Dean sees stars and has to drop his head to Cas’s shoulder and take a deep breath. He sits up and reaches to the bedside table to pull the lube out of his travel case. 

Sitting back, he pushes Cas’s legs apart and shifts until he’s kneeling between them. He presses kisses to Cas’s stomach, then to his hip, and then to the underside of his cock, before tonguing lightly at the slit. 

“I need you to relax for me now, okay? Just let go.” He works at Cas’s cock with tongue and lips, then begins to bend Cas’s knees up, pushing him until he has access to his ass and can run a well-lubed finger gently from the back of his balls up between his cheeks to find his hole. Cas rocks his hips at the dual sensations of the finger on his ass and the tongue on his cock and he shouts again as Dean presses lightly against him, slipping his finger in. 

“I can’t--I don’t know--”

Dean pulls back to kiss the inside of Cas’s thigh, reassuring. “It’s okay. Does this feel good?” He circles his finger lightly.

“Yes. Yes.” 

“Good. How about when I do this?” He begins to bend his finger and push, opening a space within Cas, expanding the tight muscles. 

“No--yes--I don’t--yes.” 

“And now?” He crooks his finger slightly and rubs, finding a hard knot that makes Cas’s breath stutter when he brushes it. He pushes gently, and Cas goes to pieces. His hips jerk, knees trembling, and he squirms away.

“Dean--I can’t. I can’t!” he sobs. 

“Shhh, it’s alright, I got you.” He withdraws his finger and strokes Cas’s knee. 

“I’m sorry, Dean, it’s too much. I’m so sorry.” Cas sounds like he’s practically in tears and Dean could kick himself for pushing so fast. 

“Hey it’s okay, it’s okay. We’ll go back to what’s good.” He kisses an apology to the crease between Cas’s thigh and hip, and when he begins to relax, Dean turns and draws the head of his cock slowly into his mouth, hollowing his cheeks and smoothing his tongue across the tip. 

“This, yes, this is very, very good.” 

Dean hums his assent and takes Cas a bit further down, making Cas’s breath catch and toes curl. 

“Dean.”

“Mmm.”

“Dean, do you--ah!--have you found it to be a pleasurable sensation?” 

Dean draws off and licks his lips, shifts up until he can see Cas’s face. “What ‘it’? Blow jobs?”

“No, I mean the stimulation of your prostate.” He sits up as best as he can with his hands still tied to get a better angle on Dean’s face.

Dean rubs his thumb absently over Cas’s hip where his hand is resting. “I, uh, I never tried it, actually.”

“But you know the theory.” Cas is looking at him so intently that it makes him blush. Ridiculous, considering he’s naked with a dick practically still in his mouth, but there it is. 

“Yeah, Cas. I've just never been on that side of the equation, you know?” 

“Would you allow me to make love to you?” 

Dean can feel the blush spread all the way from the tips of his ears down his chest. He’s always hated the phrase ‘make love’, but the way Cas says it makes something in his belly feel warm and pleasant. 

He thinks about whether he should say no, whether it would just be too weird, but instead it comes out as, “I can’t promise I’ll be any good.”

“You’re already wonderful.” 

How could Dean deny Cas anything when he looks at Dean that way? They lock eyes, and Dean nods. “Okay. First time for everything, right?”

“A first for both of us.” Cas looks nervous again. “Do you need to untie my hands?”

“No way, man. I’ve got you exactly where I want you. You like it, huh?”

“It’s... comforting.”

“Knowing I can do whatever I want to you?” Dean mumbles as he presses a kiss to Cas’s throat.

“Yes. Knowing that I’m safe, and you care for me.”

Dean can’t even bring himself to make a joke about that. They both know it’s true. 

“You ready?”

“Yes. Are you ready?”

“I just need to do a little prep work first, since you’re all tied up and not gonna do it for me.”

“I’ll watch.” Cas’s voice has dropped a register; Dean can feel it in his chest like the roar of a good engine. 

Dean winks and reaches for the lube again. If he’s gonna be on display here, he might as well make it a good show. He slicks his fingers, and then takes hold of his dick, which has gone half-soft as he tended to Cas. He pulls a few strokes along it, throwing his head back and groaning as it hardens again beneath his hands. He looks back down to see Cas watching, eyes shining, licking his pretty pink lips. Dean reaches behind himself, still lazily stroking his cock with one hand, and slides in one finger, quickly followed by a second. It’s a quick burn but it fades fast as his body accepts the intrusion; he starts to rock gently as he moves his fingers inside himself, loosening around them. He keeps his eyes on Cas’s face, smiling at the way Cas rakes his eyes across Dean’s body, staring like a starving man shown a buffet. Still working himself on his fingers, he leans forward for a kiss, quick and messy as they’re both distracted, and when he moves back he hits the perfect angle for his fingers to rub against his prostate, and he nearly topples down onto Cas when the sensation makes his legs go weak. 

“Jesus, Cas, this is amazing,” he gasps, trying to take in oxygen. “I’m not surprised this was too much for you tonight, man, this is something else.” 

When he opens his eyes, he meets Cas’s own, fierce and fiery. Prepped and ready or not, Dean’s not waiting another second. He takes Cas’s cock in one hand, stroking gently until Cas is fully hard again and wet with lube. Then, positioning himself carefully, he lines them up together, rests his free hand on Cas’s chest, and sinks slowly down. 

What surprises Dean the most is how good it feels. A new sensation, definitely, and it’s something that will take a little getting used to, but that’s a ride he’s going to enjoy. He looks at the awestruck expression on Cas’s face and decides that it would have been worth it for that alone, regardless of anything Dean himself feels about it. He leans forward slightly, and skims a thumb along Cas’s cheek. 

He starts to move, a slow rhythm at first, sliding his body along Cas’s shaft. As they acclimate to the sensation, Dean picks up speed until they’re both moving together, Cas crying out with every thrust. Dean shifts until his position is perfect and he feels the head of Cas’s cock slide sweetly home with every move. He feels like he’s going to explode. He jacks himself quickly, strung out on the sensations flooding through him, but he can’t bear to have his hands off of Cas for long, and as he nears his crest, he reaches forward to cup Cas’s face. His cheek is wet and he realizes the shine in Cas’s eyes is partly tears, which he blinks away as he keeps his gaze on Dean. 

“Dean, you’re everything. Everything. I need you to know that.”

Dean’s throat tightens and his eyes start to swim, and he will go to his grave before he ever admits it, but he’s never felt better in his life than he does at this moment. 

“You and me, Cas. Together. That’s everything.” 

Dean watches as Cas’s eyes go wide, unfocused, and he feels as Cas breaks the rhythm and loses himself, his cock pulsing inside Dean as he comes. Dean quickly strokes himself again until he’s following after, moaning Cas’s name and coming into his own hand as he collapses onto Cas’s chest.

* * *

When his mind comes back down to Earth, he realizes that the two of them are tangled together with their arms wrapped around each other. The tie is nowhere to be seen.  
“Cas,” he asks drowsily, “are you telling me that tie wasn’t actually holding you at all? Did you just rip straight out of it?” 

“Mmmm. The sexual experience is definitely improved by a loss of control. It was effective while it lasted, though. If only as a psychological tool.”

“We’ll have to break out the heavy duty handcuffs next time.”

Cas hums appreciatively. “Maybe next time we can put them on you.”

“Keep dreamin, pal.”

“I don’t intend to stop.”


End file.
